Volume 2 / Book 12 — Chapter CII.
C. H. (Charles Henry) Tawney translation
Then he reached the river Gandhavatí, and dispelled his fatigue by bathing in it, and after crossing it, he arrived with his companions in that cemetery of Mahákála. There he beheld the image of mighty Bhairava, black with the smoke from neighbouring pyres, surrounded with many fragments of bones and skulls, terrible with the skeletons of men which it held in its grasp, worshipped by heroes, frequented by many troops of demons, dear to sporting witches.
And after crossing the cemetery, he beheld the city of Ujjayiní, a yuga old, ruled by king Karmasena. Its streets were watched by guards with various weapons, who were themselves begirt by many brave high-born Rájpúts; it was surrounded with ramparts resembling the peaks of mighty mountains; it was crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, and hard for strangers to enter.
When Mṛigánkadatta beheld that city, which was thus inaccessible on every side, he turned his face away in despondency, and said to his ministers, “Alas! ill-starred man that I am! though it has cost me hundreds of hardships to reach this city, I cannot even enter it; what chance then have I of obtaining my beloved?” When they heard this, they said to him, “What! do you suppose, prince, that this great city could ever be stormed by us, who are so few in number? We must think of some expedient to serve in this emergency, and an expedient will certainly be found; how comes it that you have forgotten that this expedition has frequently been enjoined by the gods?”
When Mṛigánkadatta had been thus addressed by his ministers, he remained for some days roaming about outside the city.
Then his minister Vikramakeśarin called to mind that Vetála, which he had long ago won over, intending to employ him to fetch the prince’s love from her dwelling-house. And the Vetála came, black in hue, tall, with a neck like a camel, elephant-faced, with legs like a bull, eyes like an owl, and the ears of an ass. But finding that he could not enter the city, he departed; the favour of Śiva secures that city against being invaded by such creatures.
Then the prince went from the summit of the mountain down its southern slope, and beholding afar off the villages of the Bhillas full of elephants’ tusks and deer-skins, he said to himself, “How am I to know where the dwelling of that king of the Mátangas is?” While engaged in such reflections, he and his ministers saw a hermit boy come towards them, and after doing obeisance to him, they said, “Fair Sir, do you know in what part of this region the palace of Durgapiśácha, the king of the Mátangas, is? For we wish to see him.”
And their chief Durgapiśácha came up to Mṛigánkadatta, placing his head upon the ground even when at a distance, and bowed before him, and said “To-day the goddess Durgá is pleased with me, in that your Highness, of such a noble race, has come to my house. On that account I consider myself fortunate and successful. When the king of the Mátangas had said this, he gave him a present of pearls, musk, and other rarities. And the prince kindly accepted it with the usual courtesies. Then they all encamped there. That great forest was covered all over with elephants fastened to posts, with horses in stables, and tented footmen; and was scarcely able to contain itself, being confused with its good fortune in thus being assimilated to a city, which was unprecedented in the course of its existence.
Then, in that wood, when Mṛigánkadatta had bathed in the river for good fortune, and had taken food, and was sitting at his ease, in a secluded spot, surrounded by his ministers, Máyávaṭu also being present, Durgapiśácha said to Mṛigánkadatta, in the course of conversation, speaking in a tone softened by affection and regard, “This king Máyávaṭu came here a long time ago, and has been remaining here with me, my lord, awaiting your orders. So where, my prince, have you all remained so long? And what have you done? Tell me, now, the business that detained you.” When the prince heard this speech of his, he said, “After I had left the palace of our friend here Máyávaṭu, with Vimalabuddhi and Guṇákara, and Śrutadhi, and Bhímaparákrama, whom I had also recovered, I found on my way this Prachaṇḍaśakti and Vichitrakatha, and in course of time also this Vikramakeśarin. Then these men here found on the borders of a beautiful lake a tree sacred to Gaṇeśa, and climbed up it to pick its fruit, and so were turned into fruits themselves by the curse of the god. Then I propitiated Gaṇeśa, and not without difficulty set them free, and at the same time I delivered these other four ministers of mine, Dṛiḍhamushṭi and Vyághrasena and Meghabala and Sthúlabáhu, who had previously suffered the same transformation. With all these, thus recovered, I went to Ujjayiní; but the gates were guarded, and we could not even enter the town; much less could we think of any device for carrying off Śaśánkavatí. And as I had no army with me, I had no locus standi for sending an ambassador. So we deliberated together, and came here to you. Now, my friend, you and your allies have to decide whether we shall attain our end or no.”
When Mṛigánkadatta had related his adventures in these words, Durgapiśácha and Máyávaṭu said, “Be of good courage; this is but a little matter for us to accomplish at once; our lives were originally created for your sake. We will bring here that king Karmasena in chains, and we will carry off his daughter Śaśánkavatí by force.”
And the next day, when the newly arrived force of Kirátas and others had rested, Mṛigánkadatta, sitting on a throne of ivory in the assembly of the kings, where he had been duly honoured, after he had had the place cleared of attendants, said to his friends, the king of the Mátangas, and the others, “Why do we now delay? Why do we not quickly march towards Ujjayiní with the whole of this force?” When the Bráhman Śrutadhi heard this, he said to that prince, “Listen prince, I now speak according to the opinion of those who know policy. A king who wishes to be victorious must first see the distinction between what is practicable and what is not practicable. What cannot be accomplished by an expedient, he should reject as impracticable. That is practicable which can be accomplished by an expedient. Now expedients in this matter are of four kinds, and are enumerated as conciliation, gifts, division and force. This order represents their comparative advantages, the first being better than the second, and so on. So, my prince, you ought first to make use of conciliation in this business. For, as king Karmasena is not greedy of gain, gifts are not likely to succeed; nor is division likely to be of any use, for none of his servants are angry, or covetous, or indignant with him, on account of having been treated with neglect. As for force, its employment is risky; as that king lives in a difficult country, has a very formidable army, and has never been conquered by any king before. Moreover even mighty ones cannot always be assured of having the fortune of victory on their side in battles; besides, it is not becoming in one, who is a suitor for a maiden’s hand, to slaughter her relations. So let us send an ambassador to that monarch, adopting the method of conciliation. If that does not succeed, the method of force shall be employed as being unavoidable.” All there, when they heard this speech of Śrutadhi’s, approved it, and praised his statesmanship.
When king Karmasena said this, that Bráhman ambassador Suvigraha, being a man of spirit, gave him an answer well-suited to the occasion, “Fool, you boast now, because you have not seen that prince; make ready; when be arrives, you will learn the difference between yourself and your opponent.” When the ambassador said this, the whole court was in a state of excitement; but the king, though in wrath, said, “Away with you! Your person is inviolable, so what can we do?” Then some of those present, biting their lips, and wringing their hands together, said one to another, “Why do we not follow him and kill him this moment.” But others, being masters of themselves, said, “Let the young fool of a Bráhman go! why do you trouble yourselves about the speech of this babbler? We will shew what we can do.” Others again, appearing to foreshadow by their frowns the speedy bending of their bows, remained silent, with faces red with rage.